


His and Hers

by tanwenmc



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bad Guy(s) Win, Bloodplay within the context of vampire feeding, Dubcon - Lovingly-Treated Victim Begins to Consent Partway Through Initially Nonconsensual Sex, Magical Corruption, Mind Control, Mind Control - Forced to Enjoy/Beg for Torment, Mind Control - Victim Forgets Why They Were Resisting, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23996113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanwenmc/pseuds/tanwenmc
Summary: Delilah comes up to stand on Vax’s other side, pulling his shirt away from his body and sliding her hands underneath to rest on his bare skin. Her pointed fingertips dig in and he sucks in a breath, heart beating faster.“Vax’ildan,” she says, her voice warm and deep, and he can’t help but turn to look at her. It’s almost a relief to meet her gaze and feel it stealing his will. Fighting the Briarwoods is a considerable effort. Giving in and letting them play with him is the easiest thing in the world.
Relationships: Delilah Briarwood/Sylas Briarwood/Vax'ildan
Comments: 9
Kudos: 92
Collections: Id Pro Quo 2020





	His and Hers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [infernal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/infernal/gifts).



“What do you think, my love?”

Delilah’s words break Sylas out of his soft reverie. He takes one more look at Vax’ildan, lying in an unkempt heap on the ground inside his room, before turning away from the slightly ajar door to study his wife. His lovely, powerful wife. Delilah reaches forward, cupping Sylas’ chin in her hand as she tugs him forward for a deep kiss.

It’s always been easy to lose himself in her, especially since being brought back from the grave in this new form. Delilah is the one to break the kiss, to take a step back and rest her hand on his chest. She looks up at him expectantly.

Ah. The boy. Sylas glances back at the figure slumped on the floor of his cell, long black hair obscuring the expression on his face. Vax’ildan Vessar has tried to play it cool while Sylas and Delilah work their various magics on him, but --

“He’s close to breaking,” Sylas says, lips twitching in a smile that he knows from experience will reveal his glistening white fangs. A shame that Vax’ildan isn’t capable of admiring it right now. Sylas does love watching that delicious mix of fear and arousal play across the boy’s face at the sight of his fangs. 

“Are you sure?”

From anyone else, such a question would have been an insult. His wife, however, is just being her usual thorough self. Sylas closes his eyes and _reaches_ for the mind of the boy on the other side of the door. The frequent blood-drinking sessions have forged a bond between the two of them. Sylas can feel Vax’ildan’s emotions and -- to a certain degree -- influence them. 

“He’s immersed in one of the escape fantasies,” Sylas says, his eyes half-lidded in concentration. “Running along the corridors, propelled by those dreadful boots. Following a map he’s memorized.”

Of course, the bond between Sylas and the boy is not nearly as strong as the one he shares with his wife. Delilah’s pleasure and anticipation ripples through him, and only an effort of will on his part keeps the barrier between their emotions intact. Were he to let it fall, they would dissolve into a delicious feedback loop, the strength of their mutual emotions feeding on each other until they became insensible. They have lost many glorious hours to that state, but now is not the time to add to that tally.

“Who shall it be this time?” Delilah muses, stepping forward to rest a hand against the door. “Which one of his little friends will greet him as he makes good his escape?”

“That depends, darling.” Sylas brings his awareness back to the here and now, a luxury that is rarely afforded to Vax’ildan these days. “What do we want to do with him right this instant?”

* * *

_“Vax!”_

_Keyleth is reaching out her hand to him, and he takes it. Her smile is bright with relief and joy as she hauls him up, out of the reach of his pursuers. “Keyleth,” he breathes, heart pounding in his chest. “I knew you’d come.”_

_Her cheeks color, and she looks away in embarrassment. Vax catches her hand in his, squeezes it. “Kiki,” he says, trying to project his feelings in that one word. He’d been afraid he’d never have the chance to tell her, and perhaps the only good thing about his long imprisonment was the time it gave him to think about her. He cups her face in his hands and kisses her._

_“Vax.” His name is a whisper, a mere breath of air, but he hears it nonetheless. “Vax, I was so afraid--”_

_“Later,” he says, knowing he should regret the time spent indulging his feelings. He won’t feel safe until he’s well away from Whitestone. No -- until both Sylas and Delilah are dead, their ashes scattered to the winds of Exandria. “Where are the others?”_

_“Creating a distraction.”_

_“Then let’s move.” He takes her hand and squeezes it, and they run -- together, as he’d always dreamed --_

“Time to wake up.”

“No,” Vax gasps, trying to snatch at the remnants of his dream -- fantasy? Hallucination? -- and failing, his sense of triumphant freedom vanishing as he senses Sylas Briarwood next to him. _Senses,_ not sees. He’s lost track of how many times Sylas has drunk his blood, creating that bond between them. Vax fears that, for the rest of his life, he will always know where Sylas can be found.

“You know how this goes, Vax’ildan.” Delilah. They’re always together, of course. Never one without the other. All those vivid escape fantasies would have a better chance of working if they ever came separately. So, naturally, they never do. “I will make you stand, if I must.”

Vax bites back the temptation to tell her to do whatever she likes, because he knows what that will get him. As punishment for not obeying instantly, she will bind his body tightly with her magic, making him unable to voluntarily move so much as a finger. She enjoys doing that, exerting that bit of extra control over him. 

Standing on his own preserves some of what is left of his dignity, so he does, rolling his shoulders before holding himself up as tall and proud as he can manage. He resists the urge to meet their eyes in a challenge, as he had done at the start. Both Delilah and Sylas can exploit him through direct eye contact, and he’s found himself humiliated and utterly helpless more than once after meeting their eyes.

Delilah pats his cheek with one hand. “Good boy,” she says, and he’s ashamed at the warmth he feels spreading through him at those words, the desire to lean into her touch. He keeps his eyes firmly on the floor in front of him.

Vax feels a hand take his, the fingers caressing his palm unnaturally long and thin. Sylas brings Vax’s hand up to his mouth and, with delicate precision, uses one of his fangs to draw blood. A drop falls into Sylas’ open mouth, and Vax shudders as the connection between them strengthens. Amusement, anticipation, and desire flood him, and though he knows that these are not his own emotions, he is powerless to stop them from affecting him.

Vax lets out an involuntary moan when Sylas’ lips close around the bleeding finger, tongue caressing the open wound. He whimpers and resists the urge to close his eyes. He’s perilously close to succumbing to the desires coursing through him, not sure whether it’s his own erection or Sylas’ that’s making his pants feel far too tight. 

Delilah comes up to stand on Vax’s other side, pulling his shirt away from his body and sliding her hands underneath to rest on his bare skin. Her pointed fingertips dig in and he sucks in a breath, heart beating faster.

“Vax’ildan,” she says, her voice warm and deep, and he can’t help but turn to look at her. It’s almost a relief to meet her gaze and feel it stealing his will. Fighting the Briarwoods is a considerable effort. Giving in and letting them play with him is the easiest thing in the world. 

“Lady Delilah,” he breathes, and is rewarded with a bright smile. She enjoys having him acknowledge her authority over her. Sometimes she orders him to chant _Lady, Lady, Lady_ while he thrusts into her, his hard cock throbbing in time with his movement and words. 

“Good boy.” This time, there is no shame when warmth spreads through him, only acceptance and delight. He lets out a long breath, and with it the last of the tension that had built in him when they entered the room. 

Sylas releases Vax’s finger long enough to let his wife tug away the shirt, giving her unfettered access to Vax’s bare chest, before reclaiming the cut finger. Vax knows from experience that Sylas is allowing his arousal to build slowly, with the slow but steady drip of Vax’s blood and the sight of his wife thoroughly enjoying herself. 

The continued pressure of Delilah’s fingers on his chest expertly straddles the line between pleasure and pain, a line that Vax fears is gradually moving more in the pain direction. Her hands drop to his waist, tugging away his loose breeches and freeing his erection. She cups his balls and draws a fingernail up his exposed skin, wringing a sharp inhale and a shudder from him. Delilah lets out a low, throaty laugh. “Eager, aren’t we? Too bad you’ll have to wait until we’ve both had our fill.”

He can’t help but whimper a little at that. Having them use him one after the other is the most delicious form of agony he can imagine -- and the part of him that only seems to have voice and force when the Briarwoods aren’t in the room reflects bitterly that _delicious agony_ is no longer an oxymoron. Delilah has made sure that Vax will never be able to find release without the permission of either of them, whispering the words to his malleable mind time and time again. For a moment, all the commands and cues that they have implanted in him threaten to overwhelm him, to leave him nothing but a shuddering mess. They are slowly, inevitably, remaking him in the image that they both desire, whittling away at the Vax that existed before arriving at Whitestone. He’s not entirely sure there will be anything left of that Vax when they’re done.

(That thought scares him far, far less than it ought to.)

Delilah releases his cock, hiking up her dress to remove her underclothes. As they drop to the floor, she meets Vax’s eyes, throwing a completely unnecessary amount of her power at him to ensure his obedience. Almost before he knows it, he’s on his knees before her, parting her soft folds with his tongue. Her fingers twine around his long hair; another careful application of pressure causing just enough pain to be pleasurable. 

“I love watching you use him like this,” Sylas says, hands resting on Vax’s shoulders. “You’ve always known how to get exactly what you want.”

“Which was quite fortunate for you, my love.”

“Indeed.” Sylas nibbles at Vax’s exposed neck, fangs grazing the skin rather than drawing blood. “Do you intend to keep him there long? The boy does have quite the clever mouth.”

Vax feels her amusement a second before she laughs. “Only as long as it pleases you to watch rather than participate.”

Sylas laughs in return, running a hand up and down his wife’s side before taking a step back. Delilah tightens her grip on Vax’s hair, and for a moment he can’t do anything but breathe. He feels another wave of her magic washing over him, a spell that creates the sensation of hands touching his bare skin, a spell that she uses to reward him for doing a good job at pleasing her. She’s impatient, then; otherwise she’d have done that with her own hands and voice. Or perhaps Sylas is, and the only thing Delilah craves more than her own release is ensuring that Sylas’ pleasure is seen to.

If it weren’t for the magical reinforcement, Vax would find this to be more of a chore than anything else. Delilah is the more demanding of the pair, never seeming to be satisfied with Vax’s efforts, always wanting him to go harder, or faster, or slower and more deliberate -- and it seems impossible to guess what she wants. Fortunately for him, she’s also not shy about ordering him and reinforcing her desires with careful tugs on his hair, or application of pressure elsewhere on his body. And the magic she’s laid across him keeps him moving, his body craving more of that sensation of touch. 

Vax can feel it when he finally brings her to a shuddering climax, her walls clenching and unclenching around his tongue, her body hot against his. He bites back the urge to whimper. He feels hard, so hard; his body craving its own release that he fears is still some time away. Sylas walks up and runs a hand down his exposed spine, sending a shudder through Vax that verges on unpleasant. 

“ _Good_ boy,” Delilah says, releasing his hair and placing hands on his shoulders instead. “I knew you had a clever tongue the moment we met. I’m so glad things worked out for you to use that on me. Now. Rise.”

He’s on his feet before he’s fully registered what she said, what she wants. She backs up against the wall, smiling wickedly as she traces a finger up and down his cock. He shudders and jerks involuntarily at the touch. “I know,” Delilah says, honeyed sympathy dripping from her voice. “You want to climax so badly, don’t you, pet?”

“Yes, Lady.”

“And you know what you have to do to get there?”

“Yes, Lady.”

“Tell me.” She meets his eyes, still more magic compelling him to answer.

“I have to please you again, Lady, and then I have to please your husband.” Sylas doesn’t derive as much pleasure as his wife from having Vax call him ‘Lord’ or ‘Sir’, so Vax never does it unless compelled to.

“That’s exactly right, pet. Now, if you’re a very very _good_ pet, Sylas will take you while you’re still inside me. What do you think of that?”

Vax’s breath catches in his throat. Sylas and Delilah taking him at the same time is always an intense experience, one that usually leaves him a babbling wreck of devotion. He’d avoid it if he could, but the only way to avoid it would be to disobey, and, and --

He could never disobey his Lady. He could never refuse anything from Sylas.

“Please,” he says, and only mentally does he add the word _don’t._ That way, she’ll read him as sincere and not be angry with him for insolence. He’s not supposed to be insolent. He’s supposed to be obedient and attentive.

Delilah laughs, planting a kiss on his forehead before she pulls him forward. Vax can’t help the moan that escapes him as she envelops him in warmth, and he can’t stop himself from taking a moment to enjoy his situation. He feels so much better inside her, his cock enjoying its present position and that much closer to release. 

A moment later, Sylas spreads Vax’s ass open, a finger sliding in to start loosening him up. Vax shudders under the touch, having to take another moment to absorb the increased sensations before he can resume pleasing Delilah. He feels her amusement as she touches the side of his face. “I know, pet. It’s almost too much, being caught between us, isn’t it?”

Vax is grateful that she doesn’t need a response in words. He whimpers as he presses against her once more, trying to focus on the cues her body and her magic are giving him. 

“Remember, you must stay hard,” Delilah says, grinding her body against his to make the point. “I know you want to lose yourself in this, but I need you to stay hard so that Sylas can take you. Wouldn’t that be a treat, all of us finishing at the same time?”

All he can manage is another whimper as Sylas adds another finger. The world seems to blur at the edges from everything he’s feeling. Or maybe that’s just Delilah’s magic, dissolving his mind and enhancing every sensation his body is experiencing. He’s not even sure that he’s moving against her anymore, but if that’s the case, she doesn't chastise him for it. His awareness of Sylas has increased to an almost painful degree, the anticipation of the other man making Vax’s legs weak.

When Sylas enters him, what little coherency he has left evaporates. He’s a mess -- a panting, shuddering mess who may not have climaxed so much as come undone. He barely registers Sylas’ cock thrusting over and over again into him, movements that under different circumstances would’ve had him crying out and grinding back against the other man. Now?

Now, it feels like all he can do to hold himself upright.

Matters are not helped when Sylas’ fangs sink into his throat. He wouldn’t have thought it possible for him to feel _more_ overloaded, but the sheer ecstasy of having Sylas drink his blood pushes him past the limit. He’s barely aware of Delilah sliding off of him, coming to stand beside her husband, a cool hand resting on Vax’s forehead.

“You belong to us, Vax’ildan Vessar. Your sole purpose now is to be used for our pleasure. Do you understand that?”

Delilah always asks this of him, and no matter how tired and drained he is, he’s always able to answer, and he’s always had the strength to say _no_ , to hold onto his remaining freedom of mind.

This time, the word won’t come. 

“Do you understand, Vax’ildan?”

“I... I understand. Lady.” The voice is flat and broken. It isn’t his. It shouldn’t be his, it--

His Lady smiles at him, and pats his cheek, and he finds himself returning the smile. He does love it when she’s pleased with him.


End file.
